


Blood and Chocolate

by ibelongtonegan



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Blood As Lube, Blood Kink, Come Shot, Come Swallowing, Comeplay, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, F/M, Menstrual Sex, Menstruation Kink, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Rough Sex, Smut, Spanking, Swearing, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 02:24:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13731135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibelongtonegan/pseuds/ibelongtonegan
Summary: You can’t wait to celebrate Valentine’s Day with Negan but being on your period you are not comfortable with the idea of becoming intimate with your husband until he convinces you otherwise...





	Blood and Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> This story is for @jeffreydeanneganstrash's "Negan's Valentine Challenge" writing challenge on Tumblr. The prompt that I chose was “Handcuffs x Chocolate” and while in itself it would have called for a simple Valentine’s Day fuckfest involving handcuffs and candies, I decided to spice things up a little bit with a few drops of blood. I have always wanted to write a fic on period sex and decided to combine it with this prompt. While I know it may not be everybody’s cup of tea (please read the warnings before reading!), I had a lot of fun writing this fic and hope you will like it!

You winced in pain and wrapped your arms around your legs, hugging them close to your chest. You would have given an arm and a leg for a Tylenol right now, or better yet, your uterus and all your remaining ovaries to make the pain stop, but unfortunately the Sanctuary had run out of painkillers weeks ago. Before the apocalypse, you would have popped a pill or used a hot pillow to curl up in bed with along with your favourite TV show and a bar of chocolate to make it through the first day of your period. You were lucky that cramps only bothered you at the beginning of your flow and then subsided quickly, but without any of the comforts you were used to before it was a dreadful day every month. 

But pain was not the only thing that bothered you this evening. You had to get your period today of all days. It wasn’t supposed to start until late next week, but for some reason, it decided to grace you with its presence unexpectedly and if that wasn’t enough, right on Valentine’s Day. Or, to be more precise, on your day of Valentine’s Week. 

Since your husband had multiple wives, seven in total and couldn’t split Valentine’s Day into seven equal pieces, Negan decided to celebrate each day of the week with another wife, renaming it Valentine’s Week. He allowed you to agree on the schedule and each of the wives to pick their favourite day in advance and you were more than happy to go with Sunday, the last Valentine’s Day of the week.

But Mother Nature seemed to have other plans for you. Instead of moans of pleasure she decided to gift you with moans of pain, to remind you of her almighty presence in the grand scheme of things, with little regard to the world turning into a living hell with reanimated corpses walking among the living, or today being Valentine’s Day and your plans for a night of carnal bliss with your husband. You hoped that whoever Mother Nature was, she went through the same hell of cramps every month. It was only fair. 

You had no idea what to do about your predicament. Had you known that your period was about to start, you would have picked another day of the week, but it was too late for that now. When Simon knocked on your door an hour ago with an envelope and a beautiful gift box in hand, your heart skipped a beat. The envelope contained a letter handwritten by Negan telling you that he was looking forward to spending tonight with you and that he wanted you to wear the gift he sent you and nothing else. 

You knew that Negan would inevitably come to your room, but didn’t know how to tell him that you couldn’t spend the night with him. You had never refused his advances before and having been a wife for only a month, you had not had to deal with the question of sex on your period either. You could have asked Sherry or Amber for advice but being Negan’s newest wife meant that you weren’t close enough to any of them yet to trust them with such a personal matter.

First, you didn’t even want to open the box, and just set it aside. You had no intention of changing out of your comfortable sweatpants and oversized hoodie that wrapped you up in a cocoon, safe and warm. But curiosity got the better of you. Slowly untying the black ribbon, you unwrapped the shiny silver paper, careful not to tear it. Inside was an elegant cream coloured cardboard box with two words written on it in ornate black letters:

_Agent Provocateur_

You removed the lid of the box and put your hands in front of your mouth in shock. It was the most beautiful set of lingerie you had ever seen. Sheer, black, lacy, complete with bra, thong, stockings and suspenders, wrapped in elegant tissue paper. Leaving little to the imagination and designated for a single purpose: to seduce and be seduced. The perfect gift for Valentine’s Day, for both of your pleasure. You couldn’t help but bow down before your husband’s impeccable taste. 

You ran your fingers over the fabric and imagined how soft it would feel on your skin. Closing your eyes, you saw Negan in front of you entering your room and taking in for the first time your half-naked form lying on the bed wearing the outfit he had selected for you. You could see his hazel eyes, dark with hunger and him licking his lips in anticipation. His mouth curled up into a smirk revealing a set of dimples that made him even more handsome. He was about to speak, and you expected to hear a remark of appreciation, followed by something naughty. But the words you heard next were anything but naughty and nothing resembling appreciation.

“Doll, why the fuckity fuck haven’t you changed into the clothes I sent you?” 

Your eyes snapped open, and your mouth fell agape when you noticed Negan standing at the door with a look of displeasure written on his face. You got so caught up in your little fantasy that you didn’t hear him enter your room. 

He was wearing grey pants, and a white t-shirt, his red scarf wrapped around his neck and his signature black leather jacket draped over his shoulder leisurely. The only item missing from his usual attire was Lucille, but the fact that he was currently sans his beloved baseball bat didn’t make his presence any less intimidating. He held two boxes in his hand, a smaller, rectangular one and a bigger, heart-shaped one. 

The intensity of his gaze made you freeze, the invisible command in his eyes leaving no doubt in you that he was expecting an answer, and quickly. Negan had little patience for disobedience, and right now you were actively ignoring his wish he had expressed loud and clear in his letter. While you had been a wife for a short time only, you knew well enough that this could be considered a dangerous game, which wouldn’t go unpunished if you didn’t come up with a reasonable explanation. 

“I’m sorry, Negan,” you replied timidly, looking down on the set of lingerie sitting on your lap. “It’s beautiful, I love it. It’s just that…I’m not feeling like it today. It’s one of my ugly days.” 

You put the lid back on the box and set it down on the cushion feeling as if you didn’t deserve such a special gift. 

“Nonsense, baby. Every day is your ‘fucking sexy’ day if you ask me.” Negan removed his leather jacket from his shoulder and draped it over the couch next to the door. 

You peaked up at him through your eyelashes following his every move in an attempt to assess his mood. While he looked tense and somewhat disappointed, probably having expected to see you in less and much sexier clothing by this point, he didn’t seem to be angry with you either. Your excuse, even if it was only half the truth, was enough to spare you his wrath at your insubordination, at least for now. But Negan was a tenacious man, and you were sure he wasn’t going to let it go, especially when it concerned the promise of sex or especially the denial of it.

He made his way to your bed and sat down next to you, the mattress sinking in slightly under his weight. 

“Look, baby, I brought you more presents,” he beamed putting down the two boxes on the bed between you. “Open the red one first.” 

He nuzzled your hair with his nose, his hot breath sending goosebumps down your arms. You closed your eyes and inhaled his manly scent, a combination of leather, body wash and musk. You lifted the top of the heart-shaped box and found a selection of handmade chocolates inside, arranged in a beautiful pattern. 

“Chocolate?” you squealed in delight. “I haven’t had chocolate in…I don’t know since when. Thank you, Negan. But how did you get this?” you asked in surprise. Such delicacies were a particularly rare treat in the apocalypse and practically impossible to find.

“I have my ways,” he muttered while starting to trail soft kisses along your neck. “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby. Now open the black box,” he instructed.

You set the chocolate down on the nightstand and opened the second box. Lifting the lid, you found a pair of silver handcuffs resting on a purple cushion inside.

“Oh…am I in trouble, _Daddy_?” you purred against his lips innocently.

Fire flashed in his eyes at your words and the air between you changed suddenly, turning from light and playful to hot and heavy. 

“You are in a whole fucking lot of trouble, little one,” he groaned deeply, and the underlying threat in his words made heat pool in your belly. He moved his hand up to your neck and gently tilted your head back to get more access to your exposed skin.

For a moment you almost forgot that you couldn’t have sex with him tonight. The scrape of his stubble left a delicious burn in its wake, making you go weak in the knees. You wanted him and wanted to give in to him, but couldn’t. Shaking your head to regain your composure you leaned away from your husband’s touch reluctantly.

“I’m not sure about tonight, Negan,” you offered meekly, fidgeting with the handcuffs in your lap. The metal jingled between your shaking fingers.

A disapproving look crossed Negan’s face. He might have had little patience for disobedience, but he had zero tolerance for stalling, and you could tell that he knew something was up. Still, you were too embarrassed to reveal the real reason for your rejection and were desperately searching for a way out of your dilemma without pissing your husband off. 

“I mean…I didn’t get you anything for Valentine’s Day,” you asserted and cringed internally at how lame it sounded as soon as the words left your mouth. “I know Frankie gave you a naked oil massage on Wednesday and Amber baked you heart-shaped muffins yesterday. I ran out of ideas on what I could give you that they haven’t done already before me. I’m sorry that I cannot reciprocate your gifts.”

You looked up at Negan hoping you sounded and looked convincing. He tilted his head to the side and studied your face for a moment, apparently trying to decide if you were being sincere or playing games with him. Finally, the corners of his lips curled upwards into a lascivious smile, flashing his pearly white teeth.

“I don’t mind, baby girl. You can repay me in kind,” he chuckled tracing his upper lips with the tip of his tongue and started kissing your neck again. “I think we should put these to good use right away,” Negan coaxed with a devilish smirk and picking up the handcuffs from the box in your lap, twirled them around his index finger lazily.

“Negan…I’m not sure about this,” you mumbled under your breath, hating that you couldn’t say yes to him.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart, you are usually up for kinky sex!” Negan regarded you with a puzzled expression, visibly getting impatient now.

“I’m not feeling well, to be honest.” 

“I will make you feel better immediately,” he winked at you suggestively and lowered his hand to your lap, tracing circles on the soft fabric. The heat of his fingers was seeping through the sweatpants right into your core.

“Negan, stop. We can’t…,” you pleaded and put your hand on his before it could go higher up your thigh.

“Oh, okay, I see what’s going on now.” His eyes lit up like someone had flipped a switch. “You’re playing hard to get. I love it when you do that.” 

“No, it’s not that, Negan.”  
You shook your head in desperation and put your hand firmly on his chest to keep him at a safe distance. 

“Then what the fuck is it, doll? Because you are sure as shit wearing my patience thin,” Negan snapped, the playful tone of earlier now completely gone from his voice. “Tell me!” he demanded in irritation.

“I’m sorry, Negan, it’s…it’s just that…it’s that time of the month!” you blurted out partly relieved that the truth was finally out but on the other hand feeling even more embarrassed than before. “And…I have cramps, feel bloated and ugly, and you cannot possibly want me like this,” you finished with a sigh and wrapped your arms around your chest protectively. 

You expected Negan to stand up and leave the room angered and disappointed with you but instead, he cupped your chin and lifted it up so that you were looking at him. His face showed no sign of anger or disappointment, but pure infatuation and raw passion. 

“Baby, you are my wife, and I love you. I would want you even if you were covered in walker guts,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Ewww…,” you wrinkled your nose in disgust and slapped his arm lightly. 

“Plus I have the perfect cure for your cramps,” Negan added with a wink. 

“I thought we ran out of painkillers.”

“We did, but this is a natural remedy.” 

A hint of mischief gleamed in his eyes.

“A pill?” you queried. 

“No, doll, this one is not taken orally. Well, it can be, but not if you wish to take advantage of its beneficial side-effects.”

You looked at your husband honestly bewildered now.

“I don’t understand. What kind of medication is this then?”

“I have it right here tucked away in my pants,” Negan said simply and laid back on his elbows on the mattress.

At first, you thought he meant tucked away in his pockets but then followed his gaze to the centre of his pants and the outline of an impressive bulge.

You folded your arms in front of your chest and narrowed your eyes at him with a frown.

“Negan, if this is another one of your dirty jokes then I’m not in the mood for them right now.”

“No, doll. This is no joke. The cure for your cramps is sex. There is nothing better to make the pain go away than an orgasm.”

“But is…sex on my period? You know…?”

“Is that what?” he inquired sensing your hesitation.

“Normal?” you whispered, feeling your cheeks heat up, still not entirely comfortable with talking about the topic in front of him.

“Why the fuck wouldn’t it be normal? Yeah, it can be a little messy, but I fucking love messy sex. You never had sex on your period before?” 

You shook your head embarrassed. 

“My ex…he said that it was gross and he wouldn’t come near me when it was “shark week” as he liked to call it. He thought that period blood was disgusting and that I smelled weird during those days, no matter how many times I showered.”

Negan made a low grunt in his throat and bared his teeth like an angry wolf.

“Doll, that stupid fuck should be glad that he’s dead already, otherwise I would track him down and shove Lucille right up his sorry ass and twirl her around twice to teach him a lesson for that fucking insult. Period sex is abso-fucking-lutely normal, hell, I find it fucking awesome! Not that I don’t find sex in general awesome already, but there’s just something about period sex that makes it even hotter than usual.”

His confession amazed you. Not only was he not grossed out by the idea, but he was even turned on by it! 

“But won’t it hurt?”

“Well, I can’t make any promises to go slow, you know how worked up being inside that hot pussy of yours makes me, but I’ll try to go gentler than usual. If you feel any discomfort, you tell me, okay?”

“But I don’t want to ruin the sheets…or the couch!” you argued knowing the favourite spots of Negan in your room to have sex.

“And you won’t, because we will have sex in the shower. The warm water will help to ease your cramps and wash away the blood. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.”

You contemplated his words for a few seconds. His eyes showed a mixture of need and affection. He genuinely wanted you, no matter what, and the realisation felt like a massive weight had been lifted off your shoulder.

“Okay, I’m out of excuses,” you admitted finally with a lopsided smile.

“Thank-fucking-God,” Negan breathed. “The tent in my pants is killing me already.” 

He cupped your cheek and crashed his lips on yours devouring them in a heated kiss.

“Then let me do something about that, Daddy,” you murmured against his mouth and lowered your hand to his fly intent on following up on your promise right away, but Negan stopped you by grabbing your hands before you could pull down the zipper.

“Uh-oh. Not so fast, little one. Didn’t you forget something?” 

You looked at him quizzically.

“What do you mean, Daddy?” 

“You disobeyed my order on what to wear and tried to turn me down because you were too shy to communicate with me. That’s two strikes already, and I have been in your room for only ten minutes. You know that I cannot let something like that slide. I am your husband, and there are no secrets you can keep from me. Understood?”

You nodded obediently.

“Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“I know it fucking won’t because I will make sure you remember it after tonight,” Negan affirmed with an evil grin. “Now let’s get you out of these clothes.” 

“Yes, Daddy,” you nodded submissively.

“Good girl. Hold up your arms.” 

Negan put down the handcuffs on the bed sheet and lifted the hem of your hoodie, pulling it over your head along with your t-shirt. He unclasped your bra with his calloused fingers and tossed it behind him. He placed his palms on your shoulders and pushed you down on the mattress, trailing featherlike kisses and soft bites along your neck and collarbone. Reaching your breasts, he cupped each of them in his large hands and massaged them gently. Bending down, he latched his mouth on your perk nipple. He sucked it between his lips greedily, eliciting a long wail from you.

“Do you like this, baby?” he inquired looking up from his ministrations with lust-filled eyes.

“Yes, Daddy. Please don’t stop,” you pleaded unabashedly.

“Good girl, asking so nicely. Tell me what you want Daddy to do.”

The answer would have been for him to taste you but your mind stopped you from saying it out loud. That wasn’t an option now.

“Speak up, little one or I will stop right now,” Negan urged sensing your uncertainty.

“Uhm…I’m sorry, Daddy. I want something that we can’t do now…,”

“We can do anything you want, baby girl. Speak!” he insisted pinching your nipple. You yelped at the sensation, complaining about the rough treatment of your oversensitive bud.

“I want you to taste my pussy, Daddy,” you whimpered helplessly.

“Is that right, princess? Then Daddy shall do exactly that.” 

Negan continued his way down from your breasts along your stomach. He dipped his tongue into your belly button, and you couldn’t help but giggle uncontrollably. You put your hands on top of his head and tried to push him further down, away from your tickle spot and closer to where you wanted to feel him the most.

“Patience, baby girl. Daddy will give you what you want but only if you are good for him,” Negan warned, and you huffed in protest, letting your hands fall back on the sheet next to your body.

Your reaction didn’t meet his approval, and you felt a slap against your clothed sex, earning a yelp from you at the unexpected punishment.

“Behave, little one or I will not go easy on you. You already have two strikes today, don’t make me give you another one. You know what happens if you get a third strike, right?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“I want to hear you say it,” Negan demanded in a low voice.

“You will punish me, and I don’t get to cum.”

“And why is that? Tell me!” he pressed further.

“Because bad girls don’t get to cum,” you replied dutifully.

“That is exactly right, sweetheart,” he hissed with a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Stay where you are and do not move.”

He stood up swiftly and made his way to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. You raised yourself on your elbows, curious about what he was up to, but the faint noises coming from behind the door gave little away. You heard the sound of drawers opening and closing. 

You looked around the room and felt your stomach rumble when your eyes settled on the heart-shaped box lying on the nightstand. You peeked over your shoulder, listening for clues on how much time you had before your husband’s return but heard nothing. Your stomach growled again, louder this time, reminding you of the skipped dinner. 

You got up from the bed and lifted the lid of the box carefully. The scent of chocolate hit your nostrils and made your mouth water. Making a little dance with your fingers, you contemplated which piece of dessert to choose, and then finally settled on a milk chocolate ball sprinkled with sea salt. You popped the little ball into your mouth and moaned out loud as it melted in your mouth, and the flavour hit your taste buds. The combination of sweet and salty was caressing your tongue like a soft pillow, and you closed your eyes to savour the sensation.

“If I remember correctly, I told you to stay where you were and not to move,” you heard Negan’s cold voice from behind you and spun around on your heel. “I have a feeling that you have just earned your third strike, little one.” 

He was standing at the bathroom door, with a black towel in hand and a sinister look on his face. He was not wearing his t-shirt anymore, and the red scarf was missing from around his neck. You couldn’t help but marvel at the salt and pepper curls adorning his toned chest. “Congratulations. Three strikes in half an hour. I think that’s a fucking world record. What a shame that your prize is going to be anything but a reward.”

You fidgeted nervously under his penetrating gaze and were trying to think of an excuse to lessen your punishment, but knew that it was a lost cause. 

“I know you like to be punished, but I think that will change quickly if I make your punishment less enjoyable for you and more pleasurable for me,” Negan mused biting his lower lip.

“I’m sorry, Daddy, I couldn’t help it. My hormones are giving me cravings,” you replied while swallowing down the remnants of the chocolate in your mouth.

“Naughty, naughty girl,” Negan growled dangerously as he started advancing on you. “I see that you need to be taught a lesson. I was going to eat you out first to get you nice and ready for me, but not anymore, baby girl.” When he reached you, he grabbed the box of chocolate from your hand, tossed it on the bed and picked up the handcuffs lying on the sheet. “We are done going slow tonight. Turn around.”

His words made a shiver run down your spine. You turned around and felt him grab your right wrist and pull it behind your back. You heard the click of the handcuffs and felt the cold metal around one wrist then the other. Without further ado, he grabbed your arm and pulled you towards the bathroom. He pushed the door open and dragged you inside, kicking the door shut after you with a loud bang. The lights were off, but the bathroom was lit by a dozen candles scattered around the sink, their soft glow dancing on your skin as the movement of the door made them flicker. Negan must have lit them while you were outside snacking on the chocolate.

Negan unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants and boxers, his cock springing free and hitting his stomach. Droplets of precum were coating his swollen tip, glistening in the dim light. He hooked his fingers in your sweatpants and tugged them down your hips along with your panties, letting them pool on the floor at your feet and then helped you out of them. Once you were standing completely naked in front of him, you crossed your legs, trying to hide the thin blue string peeking out between your legs in shame. 

“Tsk, tsk…,” Negan shook his head and showed his hands between your legs to force them apart, pulled out the tampon in one quick motion and tossed it into the trashcan unceremoniously. 

You could feel warm blood trickle down your inner thigh, but Negan didn’t seem to care as he stepped into the shower and started the water. Once he was happy with the temperature, he turned around and pulled you inside the cabin after him. 

Before you knew it, you were shown against the cold tile wall, his tongue demanding access to your mouth aggressively. The handcuffs pressed into your back painfully, and you tried to hold onto the slippery surface as the warm water from the shower cascaded down on you. Negan’s hands were roaming your body, grabbing, groping and exploring every inch of your naked form greedily. Once his hand reached your pussy, he slipped a finger inside you, the combined wetness of your arousal and blood allowing him easy access. Slowly, he slid a second finger in next to the first and began to scissor them gently. Your pussy clenched around him instinctively, and you groaned out loud at the loss of contact when you felt Negan remove his fingers from your heat. 

“Taste yourself!” he ordered, and you looked up at him in shock. 

His fingers were covered in blood. In your blood. 

Your face grew hot under his scrutiny, and you opened your mouth for him tentatively. He pushed the first finger, then the second past your lips and you sucked both clean keeping your eyes fixed on his. The blood felt sticky and warm and coated the insides of your mouth like a creamy sauce. The metallic taste of it mixed with the lingering flavour of chocolate on your tongue, and you would have been lying if you had said it was unpleasant. The knowledge of tasting your blood was oddly bizarre and yet there was something titillating about the forbidden nature of it as well as the way your husband was making you do this. 

Negan was eyeing you intently as if he could hear your inner thoughts and laughed darkly upon seeing you lick your bloodstained lips with illicit pleasure. 

“Give me a taste, too,” he panted with hooded eyes and slammed his mouth down onto yours, lapping up the residual blood from your lips in a sloppy kiss. “Fucking delicious,” he purred under his breath and turned you around, shoving you up against the wall. 

He trailed his finger down your spine from your neck to your lower back making you shiver despite the warmth of the water pouring over your body. The walls of the shower cabin were now misty from the steam that had accumulated inside the bathroom. Not being able to wait any longer, he finally entered you from behind with a sharp thrust. He kept his word and dictated a fast rhythm right away, not giving you time to adjust to him. While you were more sensitive than unusual, the slight discomfort was soon replaced by the sheer pleasure of him hitting your G-spot with the tip of his dick. He grabbed your hips with one hand and lowered the other to your clit, rubbing tiny circles on it with his fingers. 

“Do you like this, little one?” he rasped in a seductive tone.

You cried out, not being able to form a coherent reply, but this wasn’t enough for Negan. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your body up against his chest roughly. Your scalp prickled uncomfortably and you tried in vain to squirm away from him.

“I asked you a question, little one. Do you like this?” he barked at you.

“Yes, Daddy, please fuck me harder!” you heard yourself beg in a pathetic voice. 

However, Negan did the complete opposite and slid out halfway, keeping only the tip of his throbbing cock inside you.

“I think not, baby girl. You were a very bad girl earlier and need to be punished.” 

You leaned your head back on his shoulder and tried to push yourself back on his cock but were stopped by a sharp slap on your ass. Mewling in pain you tried to wiggle away from his grasp but to no avail, your hands were cuffed, and he was holding you tightly against him. 

“Ten counts, little one. This is your punishment. Stay still, or I will double it!” he snarled at you, and you knew resistance was futile. You had no choice but to accept your punishment. Closing your eyes, you gave him a quick nod in defeat and acceptance of your fate.

You screamed as he swatted your asscheeks, one after the other with an open hand, his cock still buried halfway inside your pussy. He spanked you hard and mercilessly, pausing after each hit until the tremors in your body subsided and your pitiful sobs faded to quiet whimpers. While his assault on your flesh was painful, you couldn’t ignore the tingling growing in your core. Your ass felt sore and the water prickled against your hot skin. Once Negan was finished, he rubbed your tender backside a few times with his palm to soothe the pain. 

“Fucking hell, baby girl,” he gave a quick whistle of admiration at his handiwork. “There isn’t a hotter sight than my handprint on your ass. I should spank you more often.”

A silent cry escaped your lips as you felt him plunge into you in one long, slick thrust, his entire length buried to the hilt. He picked up the speed and started pounding you with no mercy, his balls slapping against your pussy.

“Fuck, baby girl. You are so wet for me and if you saw how my cock looks like now going in and out of your pussy, coated in your blood. It’s a fucking vampire dick! Lucille would be so goddamn jealous right now…the vampire bat that she is.” 

His dirty words were pushing you further towards the edge and your body stiffened in anticipation. Even through the fog of lust you remembered that you were not allowed to cum. You gritted your teeth trying to regain control over your overstimulated senses, but your body was on fire, every fibre in your body craving release.

“Don’t you dare to cum!” Negan snarled at you and smacked your ass hard in warning upon feeling your pussy clamp down on in his dick.  
His movements became deeper and more urgent, his fingertips digging into your hips painfully.

“Where do you want me to cum, baby girl? In your pussy? On your ass?” His voice was hoarse and uneven, betraying his composure.

“No, Daddy. In my mouth, please,” you pleaded shamelessly. 

“Your wish is my command, little one. Get on your knees,” he husked in your ear and pulled out of your pussy.

You lowered yourself in front of him, the hard floor of the shower pressing against your knees, and opened your mouth for him, sticking out your tongue with a wanton look. Negan palmed his dick, still coated with your cum and blood, and started pumping it furiously. The sound of slapping skin filled the tight space of the shower. After a few hard strokes, he grabbed your hair to angle your head and began shooting streams of hot, thick cum in your mouth and on your chin, painting your tongue white with his release. Shouting a string of curses under his breath, he continued to stroke himself milking the last drops of cum from his cock until he was utterly spent and then smeared it on your lips with the tip languidly. 

You watched him in awe, the sight of him losing control in front of your eyes and marking you with his seed making you feel wanted and powerful. You swallowed the load of cum in your mouth hungrily and licked off the drops from your lips and around your mouth before letting the water from the shower wash away the rest of the sticky residue from your face. Sucking his softening dick into your mouth, you licked every drop of your combined juices and blood from him, keeping your gaze on his flushed face. He stared down at you, his pupils blown with desire, caressing your cheek with his thumb softly.

“Such a good girl cleaning up Daddy’s dick so nicely.” 

You looked up at him submissively, his praise and sated expression filling your body with a spark of pride and despite your denied orgasm, a sense of utter satisfaction.

***

An hour later both of you were lying in your bed, tucked under the soft, warm blanket. Negan picked out a little heart-shaped piece from the box of chocolate lying on his stomach and fed it to you as you drew tiny circles on his chest with your pinky. 

“Hmmm…this is heavenly. There is nothing better than chocolate,” you moaned out chewing happily on the sweet dessert.

“I have to correct you on that one, baby girl. There is one thing that’s even better than chocolate,” Negan hummed against your ear and popped a small dark chocolate ball into his mouth. 

His voice was even lower than usual, the many orders he roared at you earlier making his voice raspy and yet sweet as molasses to your ears.

“Okay, you’re right. Chocolate and sex. It’s a good combination.”

“With a few drops of blood added to it,” Negan grinned thickly. 

“As you wish, my Bloody Valentine!” you teased with a wink. “Who knew you could develop an appetite for blood?” 

“Only for your blood, baby. Only for your blood,” Negan cooed seductively and placed a chaste kiss on your lips.


End file.
